If he would come to-day, to-day, to-day, <br />O, what a day to-day would be! <br />But now he's away, miles and miles away <br />From me across the sea. <br /> <br />O little bird, flying, flying, flying <br />To your nest in the warm west, <br />Tell him as you pass that I am dying, <br />As you pass home to your nest. <br /> <br />I have a sister, I have a brother, <br />A faithful hound, a tame white dove; <br />But I had another, once I had another, <br />And I miss him, my love, my love! <br /> <br />In this weary world it is so cold, so cold, <br />While I sit here all alone; <br />I would not like to wait and to grow old, <br />But just to be dead and gone. <br /> <br />Make me fair when I lie dead on my bed, <br />Fair where I am lying: <br />Perhaps he may come and look upon me dead— <br />He for whom I am dying. <br /> <br />Dig my grave for two, with a stone to show it, <br />And on the stone write my name; <br />If he never comes, I shall never know it, <br />But sleep on all the same.<br /><br />Christina Georgina Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/if-206/
